


Care To Dance?

by Clennel



Category: Cinderella (Fairy Tale), Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged up characters, Cinderella AU, Dancing, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Human Plagg, LadyNoir - Freeform, Masquerade Ball, Melancholy, a little bit of angst i think, but the dynamic is the same, i'll think of more things to tag this as later, ladybug and chat noir aren't superheroes in this one, sort of, theyre teenagers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 02:12:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10687650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clennel/pseuds/Clennel
Summary: A Cinderella (ish) au. After meeting a man known as Chat Noir and who only knows Marinette as Ladybug at Gabriel Agreste's fashion masquerade, a strange friendship is formed. Against all odds, they decide to meet each other the night after. With their secret identities and extremely different lives, they make a strange pair atop of the roofs of Paris.Based on artwork by "eicinic" on TumblrWarning: Mild Language





	Care To Dance?

**Author's Note:**

> So the summary needs improvement. Mostly, I wanted to get this posted ASAP.  
> Basically, I saw this artwork on Tumblr one day by a fantastically talented artist who has the username eicinic. It is absolutely gorgeous and it inspired me to do a fic that quickly turned into a multi chapter. So even though it's several months late, here's the first chapter to the Cinderella au based on the artwork found at this link:  
> http://eicinic.tumblr.com/post/148417273905/midnight-in-paris  
> Enjoy! ~

The night air trails its fingers down Marinette’s bare arm. She gasps at the sudden cold. For a moment, she’s briefly tempted to go back into her bedroom and crawl back under the covers. In the same second, she pushes the thought away. She’ll be late if she doesn’t leave soon.

  
“Are you ready Mari?” Tikki asks from beside. They stare out at the city together. At the endless rooftops dancing with lights.

  
Marinette takes one look at Tikki’s kind eyes and nods. “As ready as ever. Do I look okay?”? _Do I look tacky?_ is what she really wanted to ask. She runs a hand over the dotted red sash at her hip, pausing at the small compact at her hip. A clock and a constant reminder to be back home before anyone notices that she’s gone.

  
“Of course you do.” Tikki studies her. “You’re not having second thoughts, are you? I spent so long getting your accessories right!”

  
Marinette shakes her head, sparing a moment to wrap Tikki into a hug. “No. No, I love it. I’m just worried.”

  
Tikki hugs her back, but only for a second. When she pulls away, she smiles in that sisterly motherly fashion that only she can pull off. “Don’t be. You’ll be fan-oh!”

  
One second, Marinette is smiling at a wide eyed Tikki and the next, she’s looking at empty air. Tikki bolts across the room. Nearly leaping over the bed, she reaches the closet and throws open the door. The light thud it makes as it hits the wall has Marinette glancing at the door.

  
“Tikki!” She whispers. “You’ll wake them up!”

  
She can barely see Tikki’s shoulders rise and fall in a careless shrug as she whisper calls back, “When do they ever wake up?”

  
Marinette shakes her head. “Aren’t you supposed to be the good one here?”

  
Tikki ignores her. With a slight gasp, she straightens up and rushes back. She nearly knocks Marinette off the balcony in her haste. “Here! You can’t forget this!”

  
She shoves a small mask into Marinette’s hands. The soft fabric rubs against Marinette’s fingers, like a smooth caress. Even though it had only been last night that she donned it, it feels like a lifetime ago. Something that happened to someone else entirely. She pushes it up onto her face, feeling it hug her features. One of Tikki’s small miracles; the mask fits perfectly. Tikki hadn’t told her where she’d gotten it.

“Marinette, go. You’ll be late.” Tikki lays a hand on Marinette’s shoulder, leaning her cheek on her knuckles. “Your young man will be waiting.”

  
Marinette flushed a deep red. “He’s not my young man.”

  
Tikki raises an eyebrow before shrugging, all at once dismissing the conversation and promising to bring it back up later. Marinette can’t bring herself to be annoyed. Tikki and Alya can be so alike at times. Instead, she pulls Tikki into one last hug.

  
“You’ll get home safe?”

  
Tikki chuckles in her ear. “I’ll probably stay out a bit longer but yes.”

  
Marinette grins. The rooftops are Tikki’s favorite place to be; it’s difficult to imagine her anywhere else. It’s one of the first things that brought them together; that love for the wind atop the buildings, the lights spiraling into the night, the freedom coating your skin. For Marinette, it’s a wonderful release. For Tikki, it’s embedded in who she is.

  
“You and your city,” Marinette says as she pulls away.

  
“You and your Chat Noir.” Tikki winks. Before Marinette can sputter a reply, Tikki gives her a light shove towards the railing. “Now go. Quickly.”

  
Marinette shoots her a bright grin. Tikki returns it before she jumps the railing and leaps onto the roof across from them, moving from one to another until she’s merely a dark silhouette blending into the night sky.

  
Marinette takes a breath and jumps the railing, heading in the other direction. Her heart hammers in her chest as she imagines what waits for her by the Eiffel Tower. Even the wind in her hair can’t calm her jittery nerves. The fact that she’s not comforted by the run tells her entirely too much.

  
She shakes her head. I’ll be fine. It’s just Chat Noir. Her lips quirk at the name, its novelty still fresh. As she runs, she can’t help but let her thoughts wander. Is he waiting for her? Does he think that she won’t come? Or will she be early and watch as he just appears, like he had last night?

  
The dance is still fresh in her memory; pulling at her thoughts like an insistent, out-of-reach dream. And as she dashes across the roofs, she wonders how long she’ll be chasing it.

  
_****_

  
_Marinette had pulled at the sleeves of her dress. Stared wide eyed at the festive Agreste mansion, a sight she never thought she would see. Her heart thundered in her neck._ _Thrumming until she felt it everywhere. There was no way she was going to get in._

  
_“Miss? Can I see an invitation?”_

  
_No. Marinette paled. Reached up to adjust her mask as if it could hide her panic. She had known this was coming. She was ready. She straightened her shoulders, and hid her shaking hands behind her back. “Do you not know who I am?”_

  
_The greeter merely blinked at her. Dear god, what was she doing? What if someone recognized her? Even with the mask and the ridiculous costume and the stupid dance theme and the masquerade and damn Mr. Agreste for even putting this together, she had no place here._

  
_Her thoughts continued to spiral until the greeter cleared his throat. “Erm, I am sorry miss, but I still need to see an invitation.”_

  
_Marinette’s nail dug into her handbag. “I must’ve left it ins-”_

  
_“There you are!” A new voice called from the doorway. They both looked up to see a lean man jogging through the doorway. His hair caught the light behind him, lighting it up like a tilted halo._

  
_Marinette paled for an entirely different reason as he stepped close enough to make out his features. Then, just as quickly, she flushed. Black cat ears jostled on top of his head, pairing perfectly with his clean cut suit and simple black mask. Much more elegant than her tacky polka dotted dress and mask. What was she thinking?_

  
_The man, a teenager really, looped his arm through hers, and whatever excuse she was about to make died on her tongue. He was much too warm and that warmth was spreading up her arm to the rest of her body, fighting off the chilly night air._

  
_“Thought you got lost out here.” He grinned at her, and winked._ Play along. _So, she forced herself to relax as he turned back to the greeter. “Thank you for your dutiful service, but you wouldn’t mind if we went back in, do you?”_

  
_The greeter, for some odd reason, turned white. Seemingly unable to form words, he nodded, eyes pinned on the man. Before Marinette could fully comprehend that the strange boy had saved her, she was whisked into the hall. Straight into the heart of the fashion dynasty masquerade. The teen pushed them through the crowd, sending polite grins at anyone and everyone who glanced at them. Marinette allowed herself to be pulled along, her gaze roving each and every face she had ever idolized._

  
_The masquerade had been a who’s who of the fashion world. And in it, a challenge. A tacky theme, an overdone theme, of mirroring animalistic characteristics, and actually making it work in elegant pieces of fashion._

  
_Everyone who had showed up had done such a good job that Marinette’s jaw dropped. She wanted nothing more than to inspect the seemingly invisible stitches, and take a peek into their designs and compare them with the finished product. Before her outstretched fingers could actually snag a passing dress however, the teen pulled her away._

  
_He rushed them in a separate balcony, a ways away from the main ballroom. A curtain hung, tethered, by the wall, offering a chance of privacy. The teen took it and with a single flick of his wrist, he had closed them in. The music from inside thumped, now muffled by the thick fabric._

  
_As soon as they were alone, he stepped away from Marinette in one smooth movement. Clasped his hands behind his back in a picture of perfect politeness. Marinette finally snapped her jaw shut. She should have a thousand questions. So many that she shouldn’t even be able to think straight._ _Instead, all she thought was,_ I was just saved by a boy wearing cat ears. _And she burst into laughter. The teen blinked. Once. Twice. Before a giggle crept up his own throat. Soon, the two of them were laughing as if in an improv club, and only one was privy to the joke._

  
_Perhaps it was the relief that they had been close to being caught, perhaps it was the teens' relief that it had worked, or perhaps it was just because the two of them had no idea who the other was and they could be as weird as they want, joke told aloud or not._ _Regardless, it took them several minutes to calm down._ _By the time Marinette had regained her breath, she flashed a merry grin at the teen. Pleasant surprise flashed in his eyes as he flashed one back. The two of them leaned against the railing._

  
_“So," the teen began, "..can I ask your name?”_

 

_Her joy flickered. She wasn’t supposed to be here. What if someone found out? Oh God, what if Gabriel Agreste found out!? She struggled to keep her calm. “Maybe it would best to keep that to myself, considering I don’t have an invitation.”_

  
_“Pretty bold move, I have to admit.”_

  
_She darted a grin in his direction, full of playfulness. “Thankfully someone was there to give me a way out.”_

  
_He glanced at her sidelong, eyes dancing. “I’d consider it a way in.”_

  
_Marinette lifted her shoulders. Same difference. They glanced back out at the garden and before it could awkward, the teen spoke again._

  
_“Call me Chat Noir.”_

  
_Marinette raised an eyebrow. Her gaze snagged on his cat ears. Perhaps that isn’t such a bad idea. She gestured down at her dress. “Ladybug.”_

  
_The teen, Chat Noir, grinned, wild and roguish and full of mischief. He held out his hand and shook hers._

  
_“It’s nice to meet you Ladybug.”_

  
****

  
Now, Marinette hops the last building. She can still feel his arm through hers, his hand in hers, the sound of his laugh in her ear. She shakes herself off and glances around the city. Last night is miles and miles away, in the past. Perhaps it should stay there. Perhaps it would be best if Marinette goes home, hides the mask, and just keeps the memories close to her heart. Perhaps that would be better, safer. But her feet carry her farther forward, until she’s climbing the last wall before where they’re supposed to meet.

  
Her heart clenches in her chest as she pushes herself up over it and glances down at the roof. Empty. Her arms shake beneath her, threatening to let her fall. In a simple movement, she pulls herself up so that she’s perched atop the wall. Looking down at a barren roof. He’s late. _Or he’s not coming_. Marinette shakes her head, refusing to believe that. No. If there’s one thing she learned last night, it’s that he’s as curious as she is. If she couldn’t pass up this opportunity, he couldn’t either. She forces herself to breathe. Why she’s so nervous is beyond her.

  
Actually, it’s not. She wrings her fingers in her lap. She knows exactly why she’s nervous. Last night doesn’t feel real. Fantasy meeting reality is hardly a thing that ends well. Only one thing is certain. She can’t stay up here on the wall forever. Marinette sucks in a deep breath. Tightens the red ribbons at her hair and jumps off the wall. She half skids, half runs onto the roof and leaps onto the building. Unlike the sloping or flat roofs of most houses, this one settles in. Like the top of a warehouse building. A small wall lies a couple feet in front of her, separating the two businesses. Around her lie scattered boxes. Products someone forgot to bring in for the night.

Marinette fiddles with the clock at her hip. 12:13 AM. Well, it looks like they were both late. A smile tugs at Marinette’s lips as a faint breeze lifts a few strands of her hair away from her face.

  
“My Lady?”

  
Marinette whips around so fast that she nearly trips over her own feet. On the other side of the wall, Chat Noir steps out of the shadows. His lips curled up in a wide, laughing smile, his eyes wide in surprised delight. He’s no longer in his suit, but Marinette possibly likes him even more in the simple jeans, button up shirt, and suspenders. The cat ears and mask stayed, as per their agreement.

  
A sigh breaks past her lips. "Chat Noir."

  
Despite that everything dictates that they should be awkward, they should be uncomfortable, nervous, they instead grin at each other, delighted.  And for one ridiculous moment, they both think the same thing.

  
_You’re real_.


End file.
